The Cure
by dragon eyes3
Summary: Draco is cursed, and only Hermione can save him by falling in love with him. While he struggles to make 'Granger' love him, he realizes his plan is not working out exactly the way he wanted it to...


Hi everyone!!! I'm back again!!! Lol. 

Sorry, I'm a little excited .  this is my second fanfic, and I've missed writing so much!! I hope you guys like it… maybe it won't be all that good, but who knows? Anyway, please review!! I'd love to hear your comments on the story!!

Disclaimer: No, the Harry Potter characters DO NO belong to me. They belong to JK Rowling ^_^

*******

Draco Malfoy stepped off the carriage. 

He stood before Hogwarts castle, with its many lighted windows and sinister towers, rising up to meet the night sky. 

All around him students ran about, calling each other's names and laughing. 

Draco scowled. 

What was there to laugh about? Was there any reason to be happy, really? 

Someone bumped into him, and he was hauled forward.

He whirled around sharply and stood face to face with a massive boy.

"Crabbe, you idiot!" he snarled. 

"Er… sorry, Draco. You going into the castle? 'cause it's getting kind of cold out here… read me?"

Draco only frowned harder. 

Cold? What did Crabbe know about being cold? And since when was he been using such fancy expressions, such as 'read me?'. Where had he learned that, anyway? His brain was probably too small for such things!

"Yes, I'm going inside, _Crabbe_," Draco answered sourly. "Just make sure not to be so stupid next time!" he stared at Crabbe, and then reconsidered what he'd just said. "Never mind, Crabbe. You can't do that,"

It then started to rain. 

Draco wrapped his cloak closer around himself, but he didn't feel any warmer- the curse had begun. 

As he entered the Entrance Hall, he looked at the silver chain around his wrist, and everything came back to him: Harriet Malfoy, and a curse.

He hadn't told anyone about the curse.

Who would care, anyway?

Nobody, as aunt Harriet had said over the dinner table. 

_Nobody_.

Draco shivered. He didn't know if it was because of the cold he felt, or because of the word. 

He dared another glance at the chain, waiting for it to react. 

When his aunt Harriet had put the curse on him, she had explained what it would do to him: he wouldn't be able to feel warmth. He would feel colder and colder as time went by, until it sunk into his bones, and then into every fiber of his being, until he would be able to _feel_ little ice crystals forming inside him.

He would freeze to death. 

Nothing would keep him warm. Not a fire, not a cloak, not even human warmth. 

The reason for this torture was his already cold heart.

That summer they had gone to aunt Harriet's mansion for a formal dinner party. Several guests had been there, none of them Death Eaters. 

Lucius Malfoy, Harriet's brother, hadn't wanted to come. He disliked Harriet very much because of her character: warm hearted and brave. 

But, at last, he had accepted to come. 

As soon as Harriet saw Draco, and got a taste of his cold manor, she looked at him long and hard.

"Just like your father. A frozen character, and an even colder heart. Who will ever care for you, Draco?" she then pointed her wand at him, right over the dessert, and in front of Lucius' eyes. "You shall be cold until the girl you most hate falls in love with you. If  she doesn't, you will die frozen." She then thought about it a bit more. "And she must _show_ you she loves you,"

And, with that, Draco's curse had begun.

Everyone had seen, even his cousin Duncan, a tall, blond boy only a year older than Draco. 

Lucius had been furious, of course. He threatened Harriet, right in front of everyone, but she wouldn't budge: Draco had been cursed, and there was nothing to do about it.

Harriet then gave Draco the silver chain.

"When you see that girl, this will warn you so that you will know it is her," she said.

And now, as he entered the Great Hall, he kept his eyes open, looking around at everyone, and waiting for the bracelet to tell him which, among all the hundreds here, was the girl he was looking for.

He was soon seated at the Slytherin table, with Crabbe and Goyle by his side. 

"Wish they would hurry up…" Goyle muttered, watching the sorting ceremony. "I'm hungry,"

Draco sighed. "You're _always_ hungry, Goyle,"

He wasn't in a very good mood today. He usually never was, but today it was different… he was cold, and the frustration of not being able to get any warmth was unbearable. And what girl did he hate most, anyway? He hated pretty much everyone!

He looked around at the Slytherin table. There was Pansy Parkinson, giggling with her friends.

The bracelet did nothing.

_Pity_, he thought._ She would've been an easy one_.

He looked at every single girl at the table, but the bracelet didn't do anything.

He then moved his eyes to the Hufflepuff table. 

Nothing.

He moved on to Ravenclaw, but, apparently, he didn't hate anyone too much there.

_Great_, he thought angrily. _It'll be a Gryffindor. _

His cold grey eyes moved lazily down the table, first stopping on Ginny Weasley. 

He had expected the chain to do _something_, but he was wrong. 

What girl, in the name of Merlin, did he hate more than Ginny Weasley?

His eyes then stopped upon Lavender Brown. 

Nothing.

Then his gaze fell on Potter, Weasley and Granger.

"Ouch!" he yelped, and looked at the bracelet. As soon as he took his eyes off Hermione, the bracelet recovered its normal size. 

Wait…

He looked over at Hermione again and, yet again, the bracelet tightened around his wrist.

No. It couldn't be! Why _Granger_? He _hated_ here!

_That's the point_, he reminded himself.

He looked back at the bracelet, not daring to believe it. "Stop playing tricks on me!" he told it, and then looked at Hermione once more.

This time the bracelet not only tightened itself around Draco's wrist, but it started _burning _it. 

"Alright!" he said moodily, and took it off. It had left a swollen red mark around his pale skin.

He peeked at Hermione again. She was laughing with Potter and Weasley, and talking cheerfully with Longbottom.

As he watched, a single question ran through his head: _Why_?

Why did it have to be a Gryffindor? Why did it have to be _that_ particular Gryffindor? It would be _impossible_ to have her fall in love with him! Not only did he hate her, but _she_ hated _him_. 

_Why did it have to be her_?

Again, he reminded himself that it needed to be someone he hated. 

And he hated Granger, alright! And the idea that he hated most was that she was the only cure.

Only she alone could save him.

***

Hermione stood up from the Gryffindor table. 

Dumbledore had just finished his usual speech, so they were now free to go to bed. It was a cold night, and she was dying to get into her warm bed. 

Ron, who was standing behind her, yawned loudly. "I'm tired!"

"And so is the rest of humanity, Ron," she replied. "Come on, we have to lead the first years to the Gryffindor tower," 

"But why?" Ron whined. 

"So they won't get lost!" Hermione exclaimed, and dragged Ron by the sleeve. "First years this way!" she yelled, making her way across the sea of students.

"I never wanted to be a prefect…" Ron muttered.

Across the hall, Hermione saw Draco and Pansy doing the same: calling to all their first years. 

For a moment she thought she saw Draco glance right at her, but she knew better than to believe it. 

_My mind must be playing tricks on me_, she thought. _I'm so tired_!

She and Ron **led** the first years up the marble stairs, through the many corridors lined with whispering portraits, and right into the common room.

There the first years, all tiny and scared, turned their heads to Hermione and Ron, waiting for further instructions.

"Ok, listen up, all of you!" Ron said irritably, stepping in front. "I'm sleepy and I want to get this over with! So just go to sleep and… ouch!"

Hermione had stepped on his foot… hard. 

She cleared her throat and smiled at the students. "Forgive Ron," she said, turning to glare at him. "He's just a little over excited with being back at Hogwarts."

She then explained all they needed to know about the common room, when they should not be wandering outside in the corridors, and where their dormitories were.

The first years looked pleased, and the all turned to go to their assigned rooms to have a good night's sleep.

Hermion turned to Ron angrily. "_Why_," she spat. "Must you _always_ act like that?"

Ron was still rubbing his foot. He stared at her innocently. "Act how?"

If looks could kill, Ron would have certainly have died right then and there.

"Come on," said Harry, who had just climbed through the portrait hole. "It's our first day in the sixth year, let's not mess it up, alright?"

"Right," Hermione muttered. 

She turned on her heel and went to her dormitory.

***

Draco paced around his room.

He still had his Hogwarts robes on, even though all the boys in the room were sleeping soundly.

_How_?

That was the question that ran through his mind: Just _how_ could Granger _ever_ love him? What kind of boys did she like, anyway?

Oh, yes. Harry Potter sort of boys.

He grimaced at the thought of him acting like Potter, just to get her attention.

Besides, he didn't even _want_ her to love him. 

He shivered, and was reminded that he was still under the curse. It would get worse and worse unless he thought of something soon!

But he couldn't just start acting nicely… the Malfoys _never_ acted that way. His pride would never let him! And what sort of Slytherin would start acting like a fool just to impress a Gryffindor? What sort of _Malfoy_ would do that?

For one wild moment, he considered the option of dying.

_No_! a little voice screamed. 

He may seem a coward, but he wanted to live. 

He walked over to the window and watched as the waterdrops tapped against it. Now and then he heard thunder. 

He shivered again. He'd give anything to be warm again… 

But give his _pride_? That was too hard! 

_Since when has anything been hard for a Malfoy_? The little voice asked. 

Now he was getting frustrated. 

_What should he do_?

He'd be nice, he decided. 

One way or another, tomorrow he'd have to start being nice. 

The thought of being nice to a mudblood, especiallyGranger, disgusted him. But it was to save himself. 

He had to do it for _himself_.

Being saved by a mudblood… the mere thought of it made him angry. 

And what if Granger loved someone already? 

His stomach emptied**. **

What if she _did_ love someone? He'd die! 

But there was hope. He'd just have to start acting right away. There was no time to waste. 

So, with these disturbing thoughts, he went to bed.

***

"Here you are, Potter," 

Professor McGonagall was handing Harry his timetable. He took it and skimmed over it. 

"Double potions on a _Monday_?" he asked in disbelief. "That can't get any worse!"

"Double divination after that," Ron muttered darkly. 

Harry almost choked on his breakfast. "_What_?"

After they finished breakfast, Harry, Ron, and Hermione started walking towards the dungeons.

They were greeted by smirks and insults from the Slytherins. 

"Ignore them," Hermione said as Ron cursed under his breath. 

While they waited for Snape to come, Pansy walked over to Hermione. "So, mudblood, I see you still haven't changed your hair style!"

Ron got his wand out, but Hermione gave him a warning look.

Draco watched everything from a corner. 

Here was his chance to be nice. 

His chance to let Hermione see him in a whole new different light. 

He just had to go over there and tell Pansy off. 

But he couldn't. He just _couldn't_ make himself walk up to them, act as the hero, and then ask Granger to marry him. 

He _couldn't_.

_You have to, now, go_! He urged himself. 

He took a step forward, but his legs seemed to weight a hundred pounds each. He took a deep breath, and took yet another step, making his way slowly towards the arguing girls. 

Finally, he stood before them.

_Come on. Now_!

He looked at Hermione, and opened his mouth.

Both girls silenced at once, and stared at him. 

Draco's troubled face suddenly relaxed, and he smirked. "Yeah, Granger, with all that bushy hair, you'd think that cat of yours combed it,"

Hermine glared at him. "And I suppose yours is any better?" 

Draco's smirk stayed put. Then Harry came between them. 

"Go away Malfoy," he said seriously, his wand out. "Unless you want to look like a ferret again,"

Ron grinned. "We would all love to see you like that very, very much! You were _much_ more charming!"

Draco glared at both boys, but then retreated to his dark corner.

Things were not looking good.

***

That afternoon Draco went into the library. 

At least he could get some peace and quiet around here. Crabbe and Goyle were arguing  -_again_- about which was better: chocolate cookies of brownies.

He was seething with rage, what with the curse, his inability to act nicely towards Granger, and his two stupid 'friends'.

So he decided to come here, where, at least, he was sure Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't follow him.

He looked around at the students. They were all sitting cozily in armchairs and desks, warm and with no troubles whatsoever. 

_Stop thinking about it_, he told himself. 

It was hard, of course, because he _was_ cold. But it was better if he kept his mind off the curse as much as possible.

He was just getting a book about potions for his essay from a shelf when he saw, much to his horror, Hermione coming into the library. 

She had a quill and some parchments in her hands, so he supposed she'd come in here to work on her essay.

He watched her as she dropped what she held on to the nearest table, and came over to the same shelf he was standing next to. 

Ignoring him, and determinedly looking away, she began searching for a book.

"Poisonous potions…" she muttered under her breath. "Poisonous potions…"

Draco looked at the book in his hands. It was an useful book, at least to get information for an essay.

Specially for an essay on poisonous potions.

He stood still, thinking.

Should he let her have it?

_No_! he thought. _This is a great book, why share it with her? You could have the greatest essay in the class_!

But, again, he was reminded of the curse.

What could he do? 

While he decided, he saw Hermione was looking right at the book he had in his hands. When she noticed he'd seen her, though, she turned away.

_Now! Tell her she may borrow it!_

He clenched his teeth. 

He opened his mouth

"Hey Granger!"

She turned around and stared at him darkly.

Now! 

He smirked. "Looking for something?" he asked as he twirled the book in his hands.

"I'll ask for another volume, Malfoy," she spat, and left.

As soon as she was out of sight, Draco punched the book in pure anger. _Why_ couldn't he do it?

He didn't _want_ to, but he knew he _had_ to in order to save his own life!

Maybe the problem was simply that he didn't want to. Maybe he'd have to make himself want to.

He didn't see how, though. But one thing was certain: if he didn't come up with something soon, the curse would win. 

There just wasn't time to waste!

Tomorrow, he decided, things would go well. He would not act like a jerk at the last minute, even though that's what he most wanted, of course. 

He wouldn't give up. He would either achieve his goal, or die trying!

Literally.

***

Hermione climbed through the portrait hole, fuming.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled from the nearest couch. "Could you help me with my potions essay?"

It was **defenetly** the wrong thing to say. 

She sent him a murderous look, and then sat at a desk. 

Harry, who had been polishing his firebolt, sat next to her. "What's wrong?"

After breathing in and out for a moment, she replied. "I want to get my potions essay done, but there aren't any books on the subject left! Seems like everyone wants to get it over with… but guess who was the person with the last volume? Malfoy! He…" she turned red with anger. "He twirled the book right in front of my face!"

Harry knew that what he was about to do was very dangerous, but he tried nonetheless. He patted Hermione's back and told her it would be ok. 

He was surprised she didn't tell him off. Usually when Hermione was angry it was every man for himself.

"How am I supposed to write my essay now?" she asked quietly.

"It's only the first day," Harry reminded her. "You have time,"

Hermione sighed. "If it had been anybody else doing that… but _Malfoy_? Why him?"

"Because," Ron, who had apparently been listening from his spot on the couch, said. "He's Malfoy!"

Hermione sighed again and put her head down on the table. "If he's not finished with the book by tomorrow," she said. "I'll kill him."

***

Meanwhile, in the Slytherin common room, Draco sat at a desk, with the book opened. The piece of parchment resting next to it remained spotless, with not a trace of ink in sight.

He just couldn't write an essay on poisonous potions when there were so many things to think about! His _life _was in danger!

_Tomorrow_, he thought determinedly**. **_Tomorrow I _will _do something nice. _

He couldn't just go on like this! He had to take action! 

Why did the idea of being nice frighten him so much? It looked quite simple… mostly everybody else did it! Why should he be any less?

So, he decided, tomorrow he'd do something. 

And this time he'd be sure not to fail.

*******

Agh! First chapter!! *shrieks* what did you guys think?? I hope it wasn't boring!! And if it was, don't worry, 'cause first chapters are always a bit boring, but I had to tell you the whole story so you'd understand the rest, didn't I?? I promise the next chappie will be better!! Please review!!!!!!


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